


Memory Lane

by TtotheCofA



Category: Mystery Skulls Animated
Genre: OCs Abound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 06:57:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18310487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TtotheCofA/pseuds/TtotheCofA
Summary: Don't mind me! Just shamelessly using this drabble from 2018 as a test to figure out how to add images to fics! :D





	Memory Lane

**Author's Note:**

> Don't mind me! Just shamelessly using this drabble from 2018 as a test to figure out how to add images to fics! :D

On a shelf in his office, Lance kept a book.

It wasn’t for reading - at least, not casually - and was filled with pictures instead of words. Unless someone thought to move the framed photo strategically propped up to hide the weathered spine, it couldn’t be seen from the shop floor. Lance himself almost never touched it, and only pulled it out and blew off the dust on nights when he had the shop to himself, and nothing to distract himself with.

Tonight was one such night, and Lance shoved the photo of a younger, smiling Arthur aside to grab the cracking faux-leather spine of the photo album. He sat down heavily at his desk, but set the album down much more carefully. Lance brushed his hand over the cover a few times, and hesitated, looking at the name embossed on the cover for a few moments before he flipped it open.

It had been a few years since he’d last pulled out this book, and its plastic pages creaked in protest as they were methodically flipped across their binding. The people immortalized in the photos hadn’t aged a day, though it had been years since Lance had seen any of them. His sister was actually smiling in most of them, and wasn’t that a rarity!

Lance stopped at a picture of four teenagers, sitting in the bed of the same beat-up pick-up truck he had sitting in the parking lot outside. He still heard from three of them, every now and then. Bill was a successful realtor out in Metropolis, Bako was pushing the boundaries of science, and Lizbeth was living her Broadway dream. They still wrote him letters; still called him, sometimes, to ask how Arthur was doing, and just keep the phone lines open.

Once, a few years back, they’d even come back to town, on the anniversary of-….well. On the anniversary. They had invited Lance to join them on the shores of the lake, where the group had once spent much of their summers, but the old mechanic had declined.

Everyone had their ways of grieving, and Lance preferred to grieve in solitude.

A teardrop landed on the photograph, distorting the grinning face of a blond in a red jacket, and Lance swiped it away with a mechanical reflex. He took a deep breath, and leaned his elbows forward on the desk to drop his head into his hands. After a few seconds, his hands shifted to cover his face, and his shoulders started to shake.


End file.
